Thousand Strings
by lalunaticscribe
Summary: Spin-off to Infernity Mirage, Boss Rush, and Call of Darkness. The colourless skein of life may contain many colours at once, though we only see the scarlet thread. An anthology of what goes on behind everyday life in the Arcadia Movement and associated. Readers might want to read this in between reading Call of Darkness. OC fic. OC applications are open!
1. Prologue

_**Thousand Strings**_

_**An LLS Production**_

* * *

_**THE ARCADIA MOVEMENT...**_

_**An organisation of Psychic Duelists, formerly known as a haven of monsters and delicate beings alike. Twenty years had diluted the bloody history of the Movement somewhat from the time of Divine. Now the Movement had had four leaders, counting the aforementioned Divine.**_

_**No history of the Arcadia Movement would be complete without any mention of Madame Seiran Shimotsuki, formerly known as Diana Hunter. She and her husband, Rafael Shimotsuki, were the baddest of a bad lot. Where previously the Arcadia Movement made their moves through discrete deceptions, Madame Shimotsuki was the first to have shown the power the Arcadia Movement could pack. To this day, October the fifteenth was credited as the day of the White Witch Massacre in certain circles. Of course, having a tragic death was also what made her notable, but then aren't most?**_

_**Of course, if the Madame gave the Movement its opening spiel, the one who wrote most of the entire fucking body was her daughter. Setsuka Shimotsuki was a twelve-year-old girl with big dreams and power to match. Ten years was a pretty short time for an international organisation to gain any legal, social or political power, yet the Little Miss Badass of New York made it. Her disappearance from the roof of the Kaiba Dome before it was torn down two years ago marked the end of ten years in which the Movement went from mildly notable to very notable, and also cemented her place as the second bloodiest head of the Movement in history, but also as the youngest to date.  
**_

_**Inheriting the admittedly large breeches was the eighteen-year-old girl, Seika Kannazuki. Being the least experienced Duelist to helm the Movement, her reign was begun by legal tussles over the will of the late Madame and the wishes of Setsuka Shimotsuki. Although born without Psychic powers, there was no doubting her place in the Central Movement. Not with the support of Chase Princeton, Rex Atlas, and her adopted older brother, the only Psychic to challenge Setsuka Shimotsuki, Fudo Ryuusei.  
**_

_**These are the main parties. These are the high and mighty of the Movement. They are the scarlet thread within the colourless skein.  
**_

_**Yet, the skein of the Arcadia Movement are many and varied. Some came from the depths of hell, others come from the highest of backgrounds. Some were ordinary people who were thrown into extraordinary situations, like Seika Kannazuki. Some were ordinary Psychics who chose to stay on the sidelines. Some... well, some are like my boyfriend. The reason you see that some characters aren't all there?**_

_**They're the ones doing good work too. Not world-saving business, no. They protect the ordinary, from the extraordinary. They're police. They're Arcadia people. They might be enemies.  
**_

_**They're what falls under the cracks.**_

_**Whatever it was, whatever the reason, here and now, their threads were twined under the Castle that they call...**_

_**... the Arcadia Movement.**_

**The colourless skein of life may contain many colours at once, though we only see the scarlet thread.**

_**Chase Princeton.**_


	2. Master and Servant's Resolve

_**Thousand Strings**_

_**An LLS Production**_

_**The colourless skein of life may contain many colours at once, though we only see the scarlet thread.**_

* * *

From where Apollymi Hunter first loomed over my beaten and wasted self in some alley in Los Angeles, grinning to offer me, an abandoned orphan with no other skill than a little Psychic talent and the talents of life on the streets, my string of fate had been tangled in that of the new Arcadia Movement. Yet, I must say that the most exciting period of my life came in middle age, where I had grown comfortably into the power I wielded as a Psychic Duelist but certain that I would no longer again gather strength.

I speak, of course, of the time that Madam had brought the first daughter of the newly renamed Shimotsuki family to the old house. The old house was a small bungalow on the outskirts of Neo Domino, if by small I meant by the exaggerated standards of Baroque architecture. Aside from myself, a housekeeper and one or two hired help, there was barely anyone else that the Master and Madam trusted.

Missy was presented to me by a cheerfully smiling Madam sometime in the middle of November, barely a week past the day of her birth. I remembered receiving the tiny babe from Madam's deceptively strong arms, and registering faint surprise that Missy had yet to move. Of course, newborns kept their eyes shut most of the time, but had I a care to look down earlier I would have been deceived. I had glanced down, and then and there I swore that Missy's eyelashes were coated in frost. Yet that could not have been true.

Missy was a perfectly behaved baby, hard to believe but true. In fact, the very nature of her quiet was a nagging constant worry to myself and the Master, and yet the Madam had sensed nothing wrong. She began speaking properly at three, proficient enough that at five she could have been above ordinary students.

My Missy came back on her first day of school with a bruised knee.

I remembered silently patching it up. "Missy... how was school?"

"We played sandcastle." Missy's words had nearly always been canted to specifics. "Mine was built tall, yet some of the boys were... disagreeable. The castle returned to sand when they made it known, that I could not have done it without help."

"I will enquire if we must report this," I demurely said.

Missy did not mention anything else, though the Master and I kept an update with the teacher. The situation was quiet, and we presumed that, aside from the occasional assassin, that Missy was safe at school. Madam did not take an interest in Missy; then again, I had never known Ms Diana to take an interest outside of her own in Hunter Securities, so it might have been too far gone to hope for Madam Seiran Shimotsuki to act differently. Missy's Psychic power was strong, and talented; many a time had I made my concern known to the Master, who took appropriate measures.

Our first indication that something was wrong, was that two years later, Missy was accusing of drowning her entire class by use of her powers. Weather reports and forensics helped us establish that Missy was merely the lucky survivor of a flash flood, yet the insistences of the teacher led to us parting ways with that kindergarten and Madam actually beginning to take an active interest in Professor Kannazuki's daughter. I have met the Kannazuki girl, and later seen the Madam conduct what could be termed a 'play-date' between the Fudo boy and her, but I was always left uncertain what was the Madam doing with her own precocious, headstrong and beautiful daughter.

The White Witch Massacre happened. Missy was thrown into the limelight more often than not. More assassins came. Madam challenged the Elysium Circle. Madam was a storm, but so often can storms be forcefully stopped. On that day...

In my capacity as street-rat, hired thug, bouncer, loyal muscle, and later professional servant and then head butler of the Hunter, later Shimotsuki, family, I have seen many events, many things and many worlds. I must have wielded more administrative powers than any head of the Arcadia Movement ever done in history, and I speak as a history inclusive of the devious Divine who gives all Psychics a bad name. None of them ever quite prepare for the realisation that one's employers are dead.

On their command, I had brought Missy and Seika-ojou, the Kannazuki's remaining daughter, to the apartment in the Castle. Where the girls were asleep, I grieved.

When the sun had risen, Missy awoke. Her eyes had always been cold, but today they were particularly frozen, an inheritance of the Master. Whether or not the Missy held love in her heart for the mother who constantly threw her over for children not of her own was debatable, but I knew that Missy had loved Master without a doubt, and his death had pained her.

"Missy..." I nodded. This morn had seen me slumped by the side of the only couch there, too tired to put together any semblance of propriety but still awake.

"Yes, Nakamura-san?"

"With..." I hesitated, uncertain as to what my young lady intended. "With this... what do we do about Seika-ojou?"

She looked down at Seika-ojou's sleeping form, and then down to her deck, and then made a decision. "We make her disappear, Nakamura-san. We take over the Movement... and then, we hunt them down, like the Hunter I am. We hunt them down... without mercy."

Her resolution was certain, that much the history books will record. What they never say was what I had protested.

"What of Orion-sama?" I had asked. If Orion-sama where here...

"Inform him, then," she replied, her voice icy. "Tell him that his guardians are dead and that he has two charges to care for. Orion-niisan... he can remain at Central, he is hardly ever about anyway."

"But... were Orion-sama here, matters would go smoother," I insisted. "You would worry less. Orion-sama has a stake in this as well."

"Why leave it to him where I can achieve this on my own?" She questioned as the temperature dropped. "There is the funeral, I leave the details to you. Following this, I will emancipate myself and appoint you as my guardian. Seika will go to another family, a proper one."

"I cannot in good conscience allow you to do this," I insisted. "I shall indeed contact Orion-sama, and arrange the funeral and the press fallout and the Movement itself is needed. However, to chase revenge now is a far too rash move! Children should trust adults to do this! You should trust Orion-sama and I to choose the correct path!"

"Like Mama- Mother," Missy quickly corrected, "was legally obliged to do, and did nothing about it? Should I then trust you to continue Seika's slow convincing to be brainwashed into her perfect heiress?"

"No," I replied, having no other recourse. "Like your father tried, and did, do anything to protect his family, Seika-ojou, and you. On this course of action, you would waste his sacrifice."

"No, I protect what is mine," Missy defended.

"What can a child like you do?" I demanded, turning my back and thus making the greatest mistake on my life. "We will go nowhere trading words as we are. I will conduct the actual duties while I await your senses to return, Missy."

I shouldn't have left her. I shouldn't have let the precocious, headstrong and powerful Missy out of my sight. I shouldn't have forgotten that amongst Missy's great talents were the ability to call upon the spirits of the Duel.

I left her to call Orion-sama and break the terrible news, as well as contact the undertaker. The entire thing took an hour, an hour in which the worst thing that had ever happened in my life had happened.

I had entered the room, and found it covered in frost. Seika-ojou had been taken in by the Fudo family, doubtless due to Missy's artful words with Fudo Ryuusei. Missy herself was there, waiting for me as she hung up.

"You are right, of course," she began once I presented myself to her.

Immediately, I was on full alert. "Pardon me?"

"You are right," she repeated. "There is nothing a child can do. But I am not a child any longer."

Cold tingled on my scalp and skin, and I felt my own eyes widen at the realisation of what she had done.

"I am not a child, not any longer," she repeated as she held up her hand, which glowed with the snowflake sigil of her favourite Ice Barrier. "I am one who has the full power of the Ice Barrier to bear."

"What have you _done, _Missy?" It could have been chastising, but somehow it was pitying. Tears unshed come to my eyes each and every time I remembered the cursed words she uttered next:

"_You may follow me, Nakamura-san, or you may stand by and watch the last of your dead mistress walk into Hell alone. I will do this one way or another._"

So she did. She did it far better than I could have conceived. She had done far more, and with me as her sword and shield. Yet... and yet, what cost had the prosperity of many, but for the sorrow of one?

I should have left. I should have controlled her. But for that she had the blood of the Hunters in her veins, and she was far too intelligent to be controlled. I sought to stop what had already passed. I had no other choice but to tell Orion-sama what had happened.

In the end...

It was a day with clear skies, the day that Orion-sama was the first of many to face her, my Missy, in ritual combat for the throne of the Arcadia Movement. Every single Psychic was there, their gazes piercing, searching the interloper who had dared to challenge the Queen in her Court.

The implication was fairly clear; whoever won this combat would gain the throne of the Arcadia Movement.

"Why?" my Missy's eyes were wide as she evenly stared back at Orion-sama. "Why?"

"You are a child," Orion-sama protested.

"Age has nothing to do with leadership."

"It has everything to do with experience," Orion-sama returned. "Revenge solves nothing. Setsuka, wake up. You can still turn back. Turn back to normal."

"What is normal?" Missy whispered. "I was never that. I was never meant to have a normal childhood. I know what I'm doing."

"No, no you don't," Orion-sama rebutted. "That's why we're here."

"Duel!"

Setsuka: LP 8000

Orion: LP 8000

"As the challenged, I shall begin," Missy pronounced with an awfully small voice. "Draw. I summon Snow Dragon [1400/900] in attack mode. I'll then set two cards and end my turn."

"Draw!" Orion-sama declared. "I summon Mad Reloader [0/0]! Mad Reloader, attack Snow Dragon!"

Orion: LP 8000 → LP 6600

Setsuka: LP 8000

"When Mad Reloader is destroyed by battle and sent to the graveyard, I can send two cards from my hand to the graveyard, and then draw two cards," Orion-sama called. "I set two cards, turn end."

"Draw," Missy declared. "Exodia... the monster by which Orion-niisan gained your codename, Exodia..."

"Precisely," Orion-sama nodded. "I am determined to stop you."

"All the more I must fight," Missy's eyes flashed. "I am doing this for the Movement. I summon Cold Enchanter [1600/1200]. Cold Enchanter, attack Orion-niisan directly!"

"Trap card, Defence Draw!" Orion-sama had defended. "Battle damage is negated to zero, and I draw a card."

"Snow Dragon, attack directly!" she retaliated.

Orion: LP 6600 → LP 5200

Setsuka: LP 8000

"Ow!" Orion-sama flinched as one of the ice splinters cut his skin. "Setsuka? What- stop, you're going out of control."

"I am in control," Missy coldly answered. "Turn end."

"No, you're not," Orion-sama shot back. "You're losing it. You're not rational. You're going to take over the Arcadia Movement and then use it to fight the Elysium Circle at your age? There's crazy, and there's _this_."

"I will do it!" Missy shouted back.

"_Where does it say that you must?!_" Orion-sama yelled. "Who and where says that you must make that sacrifice for the Movement! I promise you... during this Duel, I will wake you up! I draw!"

Orion-sama only gave his hand a brief glance. "I summon The Bistro Butcher [1800/1000]. Bistro Butcher, attack Snow Dragon!"

Setsuka: LP 8000 → LP 7600

Orion: LP 5200

"When Snow Dragon is destroyed by battle or card effect, and sent to the graveyard, each face-up monster on the field gains one Ice Counter," Missy defended. "Cold Enchanter gains three hundred attack power for every Ice Counter on the field, so that's six hundred attack power [1600/1200 → 2200/1200]."

"But, The Bistro Butcher allows you to draw two cards whenever it inflicts damage," Orion-sama declared. "Chain Continuous Trap, Appropriate. When my opponent draws cards outside of the draw phase, I can draw two cards. I set a card, turn end."

"Thank you," Missy replied in a chilly voice as she drew. "I will take this sacrifice of yours in consideration. However, the fact is, Orion-niisan, that you underestimate me."

"Revenge, for Aunt and Uncle... this isn't the best way to go about it," Orion-sama shook his head. "I can't let you."

"Perhaps you misunderstand," Missy drew herself up. "There is no letting on your behalf. There is only the question of you standing in the way of the Movement's journey towards greatness. You are either with me, or you're against me."

Orion-sama closed his eyes, and when he opened them, they were sorrowful but resolved. "You'll understand one day... I guess I'm against you."

"Then I shall remove you," she stared evenly back at him. "Draw. Activate Call of the Haunted to revive Snow Dragon again to the field. Main phase one, I activate the set Spell, Big Wave Small Wave. By destroying all Water Attribute monsters I control, I can special summon from my hand Water Attribute monsters up to the number of those destroyed. Cold Enchanter and Snow Dragon are destroyed, so in their place I special summon from my hand Blue Ice White Night Dragon [3000/2500] and Strategist of the Ice Barrier [1600/1600]. Activate the effect of Strategist, discard an Ice Barrier monster such as Samurai of the Ice Barrier to draw a card. I summon the tuner monster, Geomancer of the Ice Barrier [800/1200]. Tuning, level four Strategist to level three Geomancer."

"Tuning? You have a Synchro monster?" Orion-sama yelled.

"Winter sweeps the land as the epilogue begins," she murmured, and "Its icy clutches upon the earth make themselves apparent. Synchro summon! Ice spear of the one-eyed, Gungnir, Dragon of the Ice Barrier!"

The dragon this time looked icy, but glowed orange and blue as the sunlight glistened, pale like wan sunlight on a patch of ice. Its forepaws and hind legs weighed down and its entire body was thick and plated with glistening crystal-like scales. Its jaw was beak-like, wide, and it let loose a hiss as it descended [2500/1700].

"The effect of Gungnir, is that once per turn I can discard up to two cards from my hand to destroy that many cards on the field," Missy pronounced with an unimpeachable finality. "I discard the last two cards in my hand to destroy your set card and The Bistro Butcher."

Orion-sama had no choice, and I was reminded of my first master, the horror-struck features of Master Apollymi as his own beloved Ruin killed him. So too, did Orion-sama face Missy with that same face.

"White Night Dragon, direct attack with Aurora Borealis!" Missy declared. "Gungnir, direct attack with Sway Spear! My spear, my sword and shield, my dragons!"

Orion: LP 5200 → LP 0

Setsuka: LP 7600

As the pieces of Exodia flew into the air, I counted the Right Arm, the Right Leg, the Left Leg and the Head. There had only been one piece left to making everything right.

"I win," Missy stood there, and she faced the entirety of the Movement. "I am the third head of the Arcadia Movement. I am Shimotsuki Setsuka, the Cold Queen. My reign begins... _now_."

Ten years ago, that was the beginning of her reign. That was the evolution of the Arcadia Movement. If I had not followed, if I had followed Orion-sama... I do not know what she would have done. I do not know if I could face my master and mistress in the other world.

It is not in me to debate that which could have been, I suppose. Yet I cannot help but regret, as the retainer of the Hunter, the Shimotsuki, and now the Kannazuki family.

_Nakamura Iemitsu_

* * *

_**Please review!**_


	3. Burning Knuckler Spirits

_**Thousand Strings**_

* * *

Within the Central Administration Building of Neo Domino City was the Neo Domino Police Department. Although the tenth floor usually hosted Duel Crimes, for now it was working with the First Investigative Brigade after the Arcadia Movement's latest explosion.

This was the reason for my current situation. Although as Captain of the First Investigation Division this was beyond me, there was pressure being placed upon the NDPD to resolve this issue. The fact that there was potential police corruption meant that Internal Affairs might be breathing down our necks at any moment. Times like this made me doubt my own choice of entering the police academy.

As I reviewed the Beckman case once more, I felt my lips thinning and umbrage build. This man...

"Hasegawa," I called to my Lieutenant.

"What's wrong, Yuuko-kun?" Hasegawa-san asked. Although he had been passed over for promotion, he claimed to hold no hard feelings for the Captain's chair.

"This man, Sergeant Yamamoto..." I volunteered. "Why is he on the case? And wasn't it murder?"

"Oh, the Beckman case, you mean?" Hasegawa-san volunteered. "They died by freak plague, right? Sergeant Yamamoto did everything to procedure. Why, you think he's a dirty cop?"

"No... I was just wondering... how did he end up in Duel Crimes?" I pasted a fake smile on my face. "After all..." I let my voice trail off. Despite working with the Arcadia Movement, Duel Crimes was one of those departments in NDPD which still ran on a shoestring budget. The recent increase in budget was set to pass, though, due to the escalating issues the Movement was hardly equipped to handle alone.

Hasegawa-san filled in the blanks for me. "Former boxer. Got punch-drunk, then turned to Duel Monsters. Pretty good at it, since his entire acceptance into the Duel Crimes Unit was based on his Duel ability."

"I see," I faintly murmured, recalling a girl and her ability to control ice...

* * *

As expected, having a female captain ask around for a male sergeant was bound to make tongues wag. Especially since I was doing the asking, but I hardly cared.

I found Sergeant Yamamoto in the gym, taking it out on a punching bag. The Sergeant was tall and muscular with a deep tan. Short, thin black hair covered his scalp, and a moustache covered his face.

On the surface, Sergeant Yamamoto Akashi had no reason to fudge the Beckman investigation. Yet he had been the one to close it, not that anyone would blame him. Yet every sense that warned me of danger every time I approached that girl was warning me that here was a link.

I studied his footwork, biting my lip as the Sergeant made a bag-shattering blow. That was not a symptom of _dementia pugilistica_. Somehow, one way or another, the man had recovered.

Impossible... or improbable?

"Kaname-taicho?" I was broken out of my reverie as the Sergeant stopped his practice for a brief moment to stare at me.

"I'd like to talk to you," I answered.

The Sergeant nodded, leaving the punching bag to head for his bag, peeling the bandages off of his knuckles with his teeth in a casual, practised move. He grabbed a two-litre bottle of water, downing part of it in a gulp and then splashing a toned bare chest with more water as he then faced me. "You've been looking for me, Kaname-taicho?"

"Yes." I took a deep breath. "It's about the Beckman case."

A flash of something found me crouching, the Sergeant's fist claiming the space where my head would have been half a second earlier. His face broke out in a grin. "First time I've seen anyone make such good footwork. You do boxing too?"

"Kick-boxing."

"Ah, that," Sergeant Yamamoto grinned.

"Back to the investigation, you filed it under freak accident instead of noting the coroner's report that the odds of contracting so many plagues were infinitesimally minimal to the point of not existing," I continued.

"Physical evidence, Captain," he answered.

"Ignoring all earlier reports in favour of your own eyes?"

The grin had dropped. "What are you implying, Captain?"

I matched his stare evenly. "You're lying."

"I did my job," he repeated.

"You know what I think?" I pressed. "The footwork, the lack of tremors, the lack of speech problems. And yet your entire reason for joining NDPD was because your fight promoter wouldn't let you into the ring after your doctor outed you. DP doesn't stop or reverse so quickly."

His jaw had set. "Today's a good day."

"That good?" I felt sceptical as I glared at him. "I think someone made you an offer you can't refuse."

"Well, then I gotta _thank_ that someone, don't I?" Yamamoto Akashi grinned.

"And betray the core tenets of the police? Betray justice?" I growled.

"The police exist to maintain order," Sergeant Yamamoto clarified. "I did nothin' wrong, and I don't have to justify my medical treatment to you. But, if you don't believe me, let's have a Duel, shall we? I win, you take back those insinuations. You win, I talk."

"And you pull yourself before Internal Affairs when I win," I added as I withdrew my DuelDisk.

"That's not quite fair," he answered as he unfolded his own red DuelDisk. "To you."

"Duel!"

Yuuko: LP 8000

Akashi: LP 8000

"I'll begin, draw!" I called. "I summon Aratama [800/1800] to the field." Fire burned as the Fiend appeared on the field. "When he's normal summoned, I can add a Spirit monster of my choice from my deck to my hand, and I choose Susa Soldier. I then activate the Continuous Spell, Spring of Rebirth, and set a card. End phase, Aratama returns to my hand, triggering the effect of Spring of Rebirth. In short, I gain five hundred life points."

Yuuko: LP 8000 → LP 8500

Akashi: LP 8000

"Turn end."

"Spirit monsters? Interesting," he grinned. "My turn, draw! I summon Battlin' Boxer Glassjaw [2000/0] to the field!"

"What?" I shouted as the hulking green boxer appeared on the field. "Two thousand?"

"Glassjaw, attack her directly!" he called.

"Continuous Trap, Ultimate Offering!" I retaliated. "By paying five hundred life points, I can summon during my opponent's battle phase! And I summon Susa Soldier [2000/1600]!"

"Stop!" Akashi called as the green boxer stopped. "Well, not entirely defenceless... I'll set two cards, turn end."

"End phase, Susa Soldier returns to my hand," I called. "Spring of Rebirth activates."

Yuuko: LP 8500 → LP 8000 → LP 8500

Akashi: LP 8000

"Draw!" I called. "I summon Aratama again, and search for Hino-Kagu-Tsuchi. Now, I pay five hundred life points to summon Susa Soldier to the field. Battle! Susa Soldier, attack Glassjaw!"

My monster raised his sword, only for the green hulk to... implode?

"Yeah," Akashi confirmed. "When he's targeted for an attack, Glassjaw has a glass jaw, so he self-destructs."

"Roll back and replay," I tersely called. "Susa Soldier, direct attack!"

"Trap card, Negate Attack," Akashi defended.

"I shall set a card, turn end," I defended. "Spring of Rebirth allows me to gain five hundred life points when monsters are returned from the field to their owners' hands, so the return of Aratama and Susa Soldier grants me a thousand life points."

Yuuko: LP 8500 → LP 8000 → LP 9000

Akashi: LP 8000

"Draw!" Akashi called. "I summon Battlin' Boxer Switchitter [1500/1400]. When he's normal summoned, I can target another Battlin' Boxer and special summon the guy in defence mode, so return, Glassjaw!"

The Hulk monster appeared next to the slim boxer once more, crouching.

"But, during this turn I can't special summon any other monsters than Battlin' Boxer monsters," Akashi clarified. "Let's go for the uppercut, boys! I construct the overlay network with these two monsters! Exceed Summon! Come, Battlin' Boxer Lead Yoke!"

The new Exceed monster was dressed as a Roman gladiator. It carried two large cudgels, far too large for any normal man to hold [2200/2000].

"Now, Lead Yoke, attack!" he called.

"With this compensation of blood, come, Susa Soldier!" I called as I set the monster. Although Susa Soldier was destroyed, at least it was in defence mode.

Yuuko: LP 9000 → LP 8500

Akashi: LP 8000

"Testing the range, huh?" Akashi snickered. "Turn end."

"Draw!" I called. "I banish Susa Soldier in my hand to special summon Izanagi [2200/1000]. Now, I play the Field Spell, Mausoleum of the Emperor. By paying two thousand life points, I summon the strongest of the Spirits, Hino-Kagu-Tsuchi [2800/2900]!"

My monster appeared, burning fires about him.

"Hino-Kagu-Tsuchi, attack Lead Yoke!" I called. "Fire Fist!"

"The effect of Lead Yoke; if a Battlin' Boxer I control would be destroyed, I can detach one Exceed material from him instead," Akashi replied as Hino-Kagu-Tsuchi made contact. "Also, when an Exceed material is detached from Lead Yoke, he gains eight hundred attack power [2200/2000 → 3000/2000]."

"But, you'll take damage," I retaliated as my monster's fire scorched at him.

Akashi: LP 8000 → LP 7400

Yuuko: LP 8500 → LP 6500

"I shall set a card and equip Hino-Kagu-Tsuchi with Mirror of Yata. Turn end." I called. "By the effect of Hino-Kagu-Tsuchi, before your draw phase next turn you must discard your entire hand."

"Troublesome," Akashi muttered as he discarded before he drew. "I draw! But you don't think I don't know the lynch-pin of Spirit monsters? Lead Yoke, attack Izanagi!"

"Trap card, Call of the Earthbound," I called. "I redirect the attack to Hino-Kagu-Tsuchi!"

My strongest monster was beaten down, as the gladiator growled and showed itself off.

Yuuko: LP 6500 → LP 6300

Akashi: LP 7400

"What's with that?" Akashi pointed to the shattered Mirror of Yata.

"When a Spirit monster holding the Mirror would be destroyed by battle, Mirror of Yata takes its place," I answered.

"I call turn end, and pass the baton to you," Akashi smirked. "What d'you think?"

"My turn, draw!" I called. "I'll summon the Spirit monster, Rakshasa [1500/1900]."

"Isn't that weak?" Akashi pointed out.

"Rakshasa allows me to reveal one Spirit monster in my hand, such as Aratama, and then use it to bounce one monster in attack position on the field that my opponent controls," I replied as the armoured whip-carrying Fairy dived to tangle the Lead Yoke. "Of course, Spring of Rebirth grants me more life points."

"My monster!" Akashi yelled.

"Hino-Kagu-Tsuchi, attack directly with Flame Fist!" I cried. "Izanagi, Rakshasa, follow him!"

Akashi: LP 7400 → LP 900

Yuuko: LP 6300 → LP 6800

"I'll end here," I finished once my barrage was concluded. "Izanagi allows me to retain Rakshasa here on the field."

"Interesting..." Akashi merely growled, smiling. "My turn, draw! Right here and now, I'll make you regret not taking me down faster! I draw!"

He studied his cards. "Right, then. I activate the Spell, The Warrior Returning Alive, to take back Switchitter to my hand. Then I summon Switchitter, and its effect summons Glassjaw to my field in defence mode. I activate the Spell, Spellbook Inside the Pot, and that allows the two of us to draw three cards each. With that, since I control a Battlin' Boxer monster, I can special summon from my hand Battlin' Boxer Sparrer [1200/1400] from my hand at the cost of forfeiting my battle phase for the rest of the turn. I set a card. My monsters... forgive me."

"What?" I blinked.

"I construct the overlay network with these three level four monsters!" Akashi roared. "The fallen star that punches down from the heavens, crash into the stage of the battlefield! Show yourself, Number 105: Battlin' Boxer Star Cestus!"

Unlike the impression I got, the monster that crashed down in a burst of flame from the heavens wore skin-tight yellow and blue armour, framed by mechanical devices that looked to be merely cosmetic [2500/1600].

"What the...?" I murmured.

"Trap card, Dimension Slice," Akashi added, as Rakshasa winked out of existence. "This card can be activated the turn it is set in response to an Exceed summon. When a monster is special summoned to my field, I can banish one card on the field, and I chose Rakshasa. Turn end."

"That..." I trailed off. "My turn, draw! Hino-Kagu-Tsuchi, attack Star Cestus with Fire Fist!"

"The effect of Star Cestus!" Akashi defended. "During either player's battle step, if a Battlin' Boxer monster I control battles an opponent's monster, for the cost of one material I can negate the effects of the opponent's monster until the end of the turn, and the monster I control not only cannot be destroyed by that battle, my opponent also takes any battle damage I would have taken from that battle. Stardust Brilliance!"

Hino-Kagu-Tsuchi won, but at the last moment of brilliant blast of light hit me.

Yuuko: LP 6800 → LP 6500

Akashi: LP 900

"I see," I decided. "Main phase two. I summon Aratama to the field, and equip it with the Equip Spell, Spirit Burner. I choose to add Inaba White Rabbit from my deck to my hand. End phase, I allow Aratama to return to my hand, therefore triggering Spring of Rebirth and Spirit Burner. When the equipped monster is sent back from my field to my hand and Spirit Burner is sent to the graveyard, my opponent takes six hundred damage."

Akashi: LP 900 → LP 300

Yuuko: LP 6500 → LP 7000

"I move Izanagi to defence mode," I continued. "Turn end. With that, shall I elaborate your situation? You have only three hundred life points left. Next turn, I can add Spirit Burner from my graveyard to my hand, and repeat the combo with Aratama. Which means that you have only one chance before defeat is certain. I have seven thousand life points. What do you say?"

"... I want to win."

"E- Excuse me?" I echoed.

"I will win! I draw!" he yelled. "This is... my counter-attack! I play the Spell, Brain Reboot!"

"B- Brain... Reboot...?" My nerves failed me. "At the last moment...?!"

"Your monsters all return to your hand, and you take damage equal to the combined levels of the monsters multiplied by five hundred," Akashi confirmed. "Your Spring of Rebirth will save you, but not by much. Izanagi is level six, and Hino-Kagu-Tsuchi is level eight. That's seven thousand damage!"

Yuuko: LP 7000 → LP 7500 → LP 500

Akashi: LP 300

A former boxer, nearly punch-drunk and balding, ageing... and yet, to pull a miracle draw at the last moment... I closed my eyes. "The gods of the Duel have a cruel sense of humour."

"Go, Star Cestus! Direct attack!" Akashi yelled as the boxer made a boxing stance and threw its fist forth. "Stardust Impact!"

Yuuko: LP 500 → LP 0

Akashi: LP 300

"And that's knock-out!" Akashi beamed at me as I got back up. "Good Duel, Captain! You were really good there, I thought I could have lost!... I'm not in trouble, right?"

"N- No!" I waved my hands. "It's... troubling. I thought... I thought..."

His face clouded over. "You thought I clouded the investigation, Captain?"

"Not anymore," I shyly admitted. "Just that..."

"I understand," he shook his head. "Well, then. Can you teach me some kick-boxing moves?"

* * *

"Number 105... Cestus the Meteor..." I mumbled to myself.

"Captain, why is that guy here?" Hasegawa-san complained as I spotted Sergeant Yamamoto approaching.

"Because he's part of the Duel Crimes Unit," I snapped back as overhead, the typhoon approached. "And he's a better Duelist than even me."

Sergeant Yamamoto grinned, running to leap and tackle the Psychic. As his fist sailed in the air, I thought, for a moment, how strange that he seemed so much like his own Cestus the Meteor.

_Kaname Yuuko_

* * *

_**Please review!**_


	4. Engagement Destiny

_**Thousand Strings**_

* * *

Well, then.

How do I actually start from how someone from the Lucky Country fell for her? Really, 'twas all an accident, I'd like to say, but I think I fell slightly in love when a girl with barely seven donkey's years under her belt beat up all three armed robbers at the Bank. Out back, I guess that's where Cupid's arrow shot straight and true. The rest of the fall came in the aftermath of where she beat me to the ground and made me the head of the Oceanic Movement three years later.

Well, I seem to have jumped into medias res right there and then. I guess the crush is a moot point, since I've gotten over the fact that the little girl probably kicks more ass than maybe Bindi Sue could've done at her age and that talented kick-ass minors are pretty prevalent in any Arcadia Movement, but she's...

(_in medias res, James, I know you have an adequate command of the English language there_)

"Oh, great," I heard the complaints. "The Queen herself is coming here!"

I turned to consider the man, Renner. "I don't think you mean the Queen of England."

"The English Queen wouldn't march down from Canberra to Sydney for a lark, or throw us into the Never Never just because."

"Shut up, Jared," one of the other guys in the Ozzy Movement gave a bark of laughter that sounded wetter than maybe the Great Barrier Reef too. "Our pommy ankle-biter could give the English Queen a run for her money." (_the Oceanic Movement also covers everything __else__ in the Oceanic area, James_)

"Well, we're taking orders and getting flung into the outback 'cause of Wilson!" Renner barked. "How long do we have 'ta stand for the OS girl, huh?! Little girl's got a butler so we're all terrified of an ankle-biter that hangs out in her cubby house to drink tea of something!"

"I don't have a cubby house."

"No one asked-!" Renner's voice cut off immediately when he came face-to-face with her. "You!" he lamely finished.

"About?" she prompted.

"Erm..." Renner gesticulated wildly about as the five others including yours truly made themselves invisible to Her Majesty the Queen of the Central Movement. "Whether you own a cubby house?!" (_a five-syllable word, very good_)

Cue the wide, innocent eyes that somehow made people feel stupid at the same time. "I imagine the practice to be rather impractical, given that I live in an apartment in Canberra."

Yes, even before I knew her, she had that sly, dry and wicked humour.

Now, the girl was only slightly over a metre, and there and then she marched as we peons were standing in parade rest, eyes like diamonds glimmering as she gave us all the equal treatment. Even Jet MacKinnon stood straight, and this was the guy I'd spend the next donkey's year or so working with over admin matters down under when Da didn't take me to the outback. I'd know that the guy had nerves of steel, and yet he lived in fear of crossing her. Renner said nothing. We six had all seen Wilson get his iced ass back to him on a silver ice-covered platter.

"I am going to be staying tonight," she said, and I nearly groaned out loud. Overall, I supposed that the Ozzy outpost regarded the Cold Queen as they would a nephew-crusher; due her respect and a healthy amount of fear, but visits not looked forward to. "I wish for a comfortable room, an acceptable meal, and paper. Get to it." (_at least you were more specific. Small graces_)

With that, she then plodded for the office. Well, more like glided. For a so-called nephew-crusher, she was certainly light on her feet.

"Flouncing in, all high and mighty, who the hell does she think she is?!" Renner hissed once the nephew-crusher was deemed safely out of earshot.

"The one choosing the next head here," MacKinnon muttered. "I heard she might pack up across the ditch if she doesn't find anyone satisfactory."

"What?! But the Ozzy Movement!" Renner complained.

"Must also bend to her will, and after Wilson, can you find anyone suitable here?" MacKinnon offered.

"She wants a meal and toadies, I'll get her the thing she won't forget!" Renner grumbled. "Got the toads yet, Hugh?!"

"What are you thinking about?" MacKinnon looked suspicious immediately. MacKinnon was one of those proper stuffed-frog rule-keeping types, which was great and all and why he was one of us six chosen after Wilson.

Renner and Hugh giggled like goddamned school girls, and on reflection it would have been a lot less troublesome should I have stopped them, but it was a harmless joke. A toad or two never hurt anyone, and she ought to have seen them toads before, right?

* * *

By some unease or will of the Big Man Upstairs – there was an embargo on enforcing political, religious or sexual beliefs in the Movement, but everything else was fair game – I found myself rushing to wherever she was having dinner in the Ozzy headquarters, or what down under calls the Frigate. The door slammed open and I spotted the esteemed Queen of the Arcadia Movement staring eye-for-eye with the giant cane toad. It was freezing in there, even though it was December. Our esteemed leader didn't move.

In the Ozzy Arcadia Movement, you feared three things: Up There, the bunyip, and the wrath of the Cold Queen. (_Oceanic, James. Which frontier wasteland did you grow up in?_)

"Er," I said as the giant amphibian and the Cold Queen held their staring match.

"Someone tried to kill me," she whispered, very softly.

Bugger. "It's just a joke," I feebly warbled.

"This is a poisonous animal. Alive. I imagine this is a clear sign of rebellion."

"Strewth," I muttered in what I hoped was a placating tone as I reached for the dustbin and extracted the paper lining to grab the toad, and mentally crossed my fingers that Renner wasn't stupid enough to come see how much of a cluster fuck he was due. No dice; Renner poked his stupid face in right where Her Highness spotted him.

"Oh, bugger!"

I wasn't prepared for what came next; she took the butter knife – which is blunt as all fuck, I can attest – and jumped at him. Whether it was the esteemed head coming at him with silverware or a little girl coming for his nuts at silverware responsible for Renner's lack off action, I could hardly guess.

Yet, after screams and the leader about to stab him in the eye with said silverware, I decided to intervene before she started the wet-works. "Right, that's it," I grabbed onto the dangerous blunt silverware – how does anyone use that to draw blood? – and wrestled the pint-sized black-haired lady of hell away from Renner before he became victim of the world's first vasectomy via butter knife. "It's a joke."

"It's a poisonous animal that tried to kill me," she stated, her voice cool and factual and angry.

"Oh, come on, it's-" I froze as I considered the toad in my hands. It wasn't moving. It wasn't making any noises, or attempting to get free. It was... "Well, shit."

Cold blue eyes were dancing between Renner and the rest of the table, as if the girl who just froze a two-kilo toad into a solid block of iced toady was considering whether to go for the forks or just throttle Renner.

"It's a joke," I insisted.

Her eyes narrowed. "I presume then that you know the perpetrators."

I very carefully did not look at Renner. "Well, you know we Ozzies. Practical jokers." Please let her fall for it, I don't care if I hated the stereotypes that hounded Da each tourney if it meant Renner wasn't going to end up in a body-bag or at the bottom of the Bay sometime soon.

"You have been relatively serious during the removal of that amphibian pest."

There went that hope. "Look, there's no way I'm going to turn them in to become target practice. I'll discipline them."

She went abruptly still for what felt like a really long time. It was like a cutesy frightened rabbit, one who had just killed the worst pest of the Deep North with her bare hands. Without the shadow of that battle butler around – why was she alone then, anyway? – it looked like she was what everyone in Ozzy Arcadia had missed out; she was twelve years old, with the giant pond between home and down under, and she had probably never gotten used to cane toads or barely ever saw them – I don't imagine Canberra had many.

"Tomorrow, the Duel field," she decided, glaring between Renner and I. "I will find out, and when I do..." she trailed off.

I never quite found out what she would do, but if Wilson had been an indication, a bunyip would have been God's mercy.

Strewth.

* * *

"We are dead," MacKinnon was reaming Renner a new one with Doomsday predictions. "Dead."

"She'll get over it," Renner echoed, but even he didn't look convinced. Renner, Hugh, Rushman and Irwin all exchanged looks that brought out the pens and papers for last wills and testaments.

True enough, cock's crow and the five-hundred strong Ozzy Movement presence in Sydney itself was turned out in full force around the Colosseum that made up the Duel Field.

(why the freaking hell do we have an actual rooster here, anyway?  
_Because of a long, practical joke between Madam Walker and Mr Taylor the janitor_)

True enough, the little missy stood alone there, her hair pinned up with an actual chopstick and dressed in black. I think someone was playing a dirge on the pipes as I walked up. (_a __hairpin__, James_)

"It's just a joke," I insisted. "They're getting punished."

"Where are they?" she frostily demanded. "The one who served a cane toad answers for himself, Mr Cook."

Whispers were echoing about the auditorium. We Ozzies stuck together, after all. "I'll take it for them."

"Jimmy!" Renner shouted by the sidelines, shutting up when one frosty gaze froze him to the benches.

She looked rather more like a nephew-crusher as she raised a DuelDisk – oh dammit –

"Wait!" MacKinnon yelled. "Disciplinary measures are supposed to be conducted by trial!"

The sword of that Damocles chap stilled. All of Oz's Arcadians held their breath.

"It's... in the absence of concrete proof, an enforced interrogation enforced by equal powers between interrogator and interrogated may be conducted," MacKinnon shouted.

Equal powers? That made no sense. Every interrogation was unequal-

"Trial by Duel," she murmured. I only felt slightly better at the prospect as I unfolded my DuelDisk. Oz's Arcadians cheered as I took my hat – literally – off to them, and to MacKinnon.

"How 'bout a gamble?" I tilted my hat towards her tiny form.

(_Slender._  
Tiny. You were damned titchy. Not that you weren't beautiful as well.)

"You win, you punish me. I win, we don't talk about it, and you gotta tell everyone that Oz is a fun-loving place where the Arcadians eat toads for breakfast."

Her face changed from flat to... wow, completely pissed off. "I cannot lie."

"Duel!"

Setsuka: LP 8000

Jimmy: LP 8000

"I shall begin, since it is a tacit challenge," she started. "Draw. I summon the tuner monster Dewdark of the Ice Barrier [1200/800] to the field in attack mode. With that, I shall activate the Continuous Spell, Curtain of Hail. I set a card, turn end."

"My turn, draw!" I called. "I'll summon Jurrac Guaiba [1700/400] to the field! Jurrac Guaiba, attack Dewdark!"

Setsuka: LP 8000 → LP 7500

Jimmy: LP 8000

"Curtain of Hail prevents the destruction of level three and lower Water Attribute monsters," she defended, proud and cold though the cheers of Ozzies echoed around her. I could feel my skin crawling with the cold, and it was summer, dammit.

"I... set two cards. Turn end," I shivered.

"Draw." She declared. "I shall activate the Spell card, Medallion of the Ice Barrier, to add Cryomancer of the Ice Barrier from my deck to my hand. This is followed by Aqua Jet, empowering the Aqua-Type Dewdark by one thousand attack power [1200/800 → 2200/800], followed by the Spell card, Break Stream. With that, I summon Cryomancer of the Ice Barrier [1300/0] in attack mode. When Cryomancer is on the field with another Ice Barrier monster I control, all level four or higher monsters cannot declare an attack."

"B- Blast," I cursed.

(_I do not understand why you censored yourself.  
_It's not good to curse in front of children, and you were a kid, dear.)

"When the only monsters I control are level two or lower, Dewdark can attack my opponent directly," she murmured.

"Oh, s-" the ninja struck me from behind.

Jimmy: LP 8000 → LP 5800

Setsuka: LP 7500

(_I said I was sorry.  
_No, you didn't.)

My back was burning, there were shouts, and all I could think about was this tiny and feral predator in front of me, intending to rip my throat out for real. Attack kitty, I dubbed it, because I'm a jerk like that.

(Well, not really.  
_That you are a jerk is a fact I can readily attest to, and therefore it is true._)

It still felt like I'd run through all the gaspers in the Coat-hanger when I crawled back up to face her.

"Turn end." she declared.

"Draw!" I yelled. "I'll summon the tuner monster, Jurrac Brachis [1700/800]. Tuning, level four Guaiba to level three Brachis. These burning feelings of the long dead and gone, will always remain as life exists! Synchro summon! Let's go, Jurrac Giganoto!"

Oz all cheered as the giant T-Rex [2100/1800 → 2700/1800] appeared on the field with a bellow. The icy princess remained impassive. (_It's a Giganotosaurus, James. And I saw no point in feeling fearful of a beast you couldn't use._)

"I'll set a card, turn end." I declared.

"Draw," she called.

"Chain Trap, Jurrac Impact!" I cried out. When I control a Dinosaur-Type monster of over two thousand five hundred attack power, this card wipes out all cards on the field! So your combo won't work!"

"Trap card, Torrential Reborn!" she countered as Jurrac Impact caused the field to implode. From the torrents that arose from the crack in the ground, the wand-wielding monk [1300/0] and the ninja [1200/800] appeared once more.

"Aww, man," I muttered before a volley of water whacked me.

Jimmy: LP 5800 → LP 4800

Setsuka: LP 7500

"What the hell?" I sputtered.

"Torrential Reborn is activated when my monsters, one of which must be of Water Attribute, are destroyed by my opponent's card, be it by battle or card effect," she primly answered. "The monsters are not only special summoned back to my field, as I am allowed to inflict five hundred damage for each monster revived by this effect. You are defenceless now. Cryomancer, attack directly!" she called. "Dewdark, direct attack.

This time, I watched my back, but the sneaky ninja got the drop on me from above.

Jimmy: LP 4800 → LP 2300

Setsuka: LP 7500

My face hurt, my chest hurt, and my back smarted from where her psychic assault was pushing me a shade too close to the infirmary. As I was, an ordinary fifteen-year-old would have gone crying for Mommy. Me, I was halfway between whooping at the challenge and quaking in my boots.

"Turn end," she hissed.

"My turn, draw!" I called. "I summon Jurrac Monoloph [1500/1200] to the field. Now, I'll activate this handy little Spell called Monster Reborn! Revive, Jurrac Giganoto!"

Blowing a stream of smoky fire, the monster growled as it appeared onto the field [2100/1800 → 2700/1800] [1500/1200 → 2100/1200].

"Ah, right, Giganoto has an effect I like to call Jurassic March," I snickered. "For every Jurrac dinosaur asleep in fossil-land, all living Jurrac gain two hundred attack power through Giganoto. Rather like Oz itself. By the way, Monoloph can attack all monsters you control once each. Go, Monoloph! Attack Cryomancer and Dewdark!"

Setsuka: LP 7500 → LP 6700 → LP 5800

Jimmy: LP 2300

"Giganoto, direct attack with Crux Australis!" I cheered as it charged forth.

Setsuka: LP 5800 → LP 3100

Jimmy: LP 2300

"With that, I'll end there," I whistled. Next turn there could be an Velo and Aeolo play, and then I'd win home free. I grinned back at her and found that the façade was breaking; there was a corner of her pouty mouth turned up.

(_Honestly?_  
Really, hon.)

"You know that it was a joke," I accused.

Her face turned flat in an instant. "I do not condone attempted poisoning."

"Which part of serving a living toad was meant to be harmful? Or did you really think we eat toads?" I saw her eyes widen a fraction. "Wow, you do think that. Boy, do you have much to learn. We need to paint the town red- erm, maybe not red. A nice blue?"

Her expression turned severe. "End your turn already."

"Fine, fine," I whistled. "You're not giving up, and I'll give up over my dead body. Turn end."

"Draw," she murmured, albeit with something of the rather reluctant. "I shall activate the Spell card, Surface, to revive Dewdark in defence mode. Then, I tribute Dewdark to summon Salvage Warrior [1900/1600] from my hand. With the effect of Salvage Warrior, I shall revive a Tuner such as Dewdark of the Ice Barrier."

"Five plus two, seven- oh shit." I heard MacKinnon swear.

"Tuning, level five Salvage Warrior to level two Dewdark of the Ice Barrier." she whispered as it took the room from merely chilly to freezing. "Winter sweeps the land as the epilogue begins. Its icy clutches upon the earth make themselves apparent. Synchro summon!"

Synchro rings appeared and winked out, the entire place freezing as it appeared. It was an incredibly dense dragon, composed almost entirely of ice. Its sharp beak-like mouth groaned, and where it stomped the ground trembled. It was terrifying alright, very, very terrifying [2500/1700]

And her... her eyelashes were coated in frost, her hair was whipping up to an unseen breeze, and her lips were blue with cold. "Ice spear of the one-eyed, Gungnir, Dragon of the Ice Barrier!"

I faced Gungnir, one of the infamous spears that she carried, and for once I had nothing to say.

"I shall activate the Spell, Card of Demise, and draw until I have a hand of five," she growled. "Now, I use the effect of Gungnir. By discarding up to two cards once per turn, Gungnir can destroy up to that many cards on the field my opponent controls. I discard two, Sway Spear!"

Giganoto and Monoloph bit the big one, leaving my frost-covered field blank and one stunned Ozzy in its icy wake.

The Cold Queen looked absolutely furious as she raised a hand. "Gungnir, direct attack! Spear Cut!"

I thought that she cried as I met the icy barrage.

* * *

It wasn't as bad as I'd thought. Well, it did hurt like a bitch, but otherwise yours truly was peachy keen. The weirdest part of waking up in the infirmary was-

"You're awake."

I nearly jumped a foot when the Cold Queen more or less materialised out of thin air. Was she a ninja, or Batman? Either way, she was there with a cup of tea. Yeah, you read that right. And the tea was in the real teacups, held with pinky sticking out and everything.

"Due to... the intervention of most candidates on your behalf, it has been decided that the... toad case shall be suspended," Setsuka Shimotsuki informed me. "In accordance with the last criteria, I have chosen the next head of the Oceanic Movement, to be stationed with the Australian Movement, and to work with our newest Secretary Jet MacKinnon."

"That's... great," I had hardly any idea what to feel about a head honcho I never cared about.

"Excellent. Your investiture will take place when your have been cleared by Dr Kastaros to leave the infirmary."

"… what?"

She looked at me as if I had declared an urge to march into the outback buck-ass naked. "You will be the next head of the Oceanic Movement. Congratulations, Mr Cook."

"W- Why me?" You'd feel stunned too if she just dropped the bomb like this.

"The head must be prepared to lay down their lives for the Oceanic Movement," she answered distantly. "To that end, the six of you I had selected at the start were the cream of the main Australian branch. Between interviews, tests and my personal observations over the past year, your powers, talents, skills, intelligence and field experience made it clear that each of you could, and would, be the best leader you could be, but the main factor was not. Whether or not any of you six were prepared to do what was necessary was needed to be evaluated. You took that test... and you passed."

I blinked. "So... you were waiting for one of us to call on you? All those demands, all that picky eating-"

"Were a ruse, though the paper was not," she admitted. "True, I am the head of the Central Movement, and through that the leader of the other Movements worldwide, and therefore my authority reaches over all. However, I myself am occupied with other areas that need assistance. The position of the head is meant to serve its Movement, to carry out their interests at all points and to protect its members where needed. Jared Renner needed your assistance, and you provided it by covering for him and then taking his place in the Duel. It was a good opportunity to... test your mettle."

I stared at her. "W- What would have happened if I did nothing?"

Her eyes turned hard. "Then I would have slaughtered Jared Renner in front of all of you on the Duel field, and the selection would have continued."

I flinched. "That's... harsh."

"I am harsh. My reputation is the sword you shall use on the Oceanic Movement's meteoric rise in the public view." she looked so calm and placid there... it was creepy and sad.

"Was it hard on you?" I asked.

"What was?"

"Beating me. Doing... this," I gestured to my bandages.

She remained silent, and then got up and walked out of the Ozzy infirmary.

Guests came and went, and a mountain of sweets was left along with paperwork provided by MacKinnon, the bugger. Da just gave me a look and rolled his eyes at my injuries when I complained, relating a few stories about Iceland before he had to return to the Andes for some expedition. I became the head of the Oceanic Movement at fifteen years of age.

The absence of her was all the more damning. I half-expected her to do a Batman impersonation somewhere about, and I kept the cane toads away with a quick barbie or two. MacKinnon may have complained about a heart or two on the paperwork, which was ignored.

We exchanged Skype. Yes, the internet is awesome.

"And therefore," she finished with general applause from yours truly, "I have assigned him the status of honey-trap."

"You're a mean, mean girl," I giggled, then with mock solemnity: "I shall call you Honey."

"Please don't."

"Honey, honey, my sweet honey-dear~" I sang.

Her expression bordered on incredulous. "You confuse me."

"My sole aim in life." I sighed. "Now if I could get that Flamvell Uruquizas next week for my birthday, I'd be a happy guy."

I saw her look thoughtful. "I see, then."

The she signed off.

One week later, the card was mailed to my doorstep, and the terrified courier gave a sigh of relief as I signed for it, pushing the box into my arms and then beating for the high road. How far does her reach extend was rather doubtful itself.

MacKinnon's eyes were wide when I showed it to him. "And Setsuka Shimotsuki just gave you one like that? It must have cost a bomb!"

Yeah, I wasn't the only one.

South Academia had an opportunity, so I went for the exchange trip to Kings, and I saw her there in her environment for the first time, kicking ass and taking names and breathtaking all through it. It was fun, riling up the ice queen, so I made with the flamboyant. "Honey~!"

She kicked me in the face.

Of course, between bouts of domestic abuse I found out the meaning of a _tsundere_, and she perfectly fitted it. So I pointed it out, while also glaring at that bastard Yukio for taking her attentions.

It took a while for cold glares and polite messages, but I wasn't expecting Nakamura-san to come to me.

Very much like the infamous Bushido, Nakamura-san skipped to the point. "What is your intentions with my Missy?"

"My intentions?" I squawked.

"Your intentions," Nakamura-san gravely echoed. "Your looks at the Missy's student otherwise, there are many suggestions that you enjoy spending time with the feared and respected head of the Arcadia Movement, that you share a cake catalogue over, and occasionally watch a movie together. What say you?"

"I say...' I abruptly stopped. Movies, presents, endearments – for me – and I always looked forward to seeing her work, seeing her kick ass, seeing her do that frown thing she does when I've said something confusing.

"Fuck me," I muttered. "I'm in love with Setsuka Shimotsuki, a girl described as the scourge of all evil in Neo Domino City, and a holy terror in every Arcadia Movement."

"If that is so, then perhaps you should see this," Nakamura-san finally said when it was clear that I had no idea what was going on.

I didn't know what he was talking about. I certainly didn't expect him to lead me to a separate room.

"You didn't do anything, really," Nakamura-san started.

"Is she okay?" I asked.

"What?" The way his voice sounded, I'd almost definitely misunderstood.

"Is she okay?" I repeated.

The man sighed and opened the door. "It's in this room, here."

We passed into the west wing, and to one of the heavy metal doors that lined the halls on the bottom floor of the house. I'd figured them to be some sort of holding cells, but I'd never really wanted to see. It seemed like I was going to today, so I nodded once, stiffly.

"Don't know why you're nodding, you don't have much of a choice but to look, because I don't have much of a choice but to show you." Nakamura-san muttered. His English came with a brogue, American or something. "You seem like a decent kid, but I'm not going to risk my ass on you. Now, you want to know what's back here, before I open the door?"

I was scared of what I'd see, so I nodded. "I do. I don't… I don't want to be surprised."

"Most people don't, not when Missy is concerned, and definitely not when people she cares for are involved. This room has all the information on the people involved with them. There are contingency plans for all of them, and there are death records for more than a few. This is the room you definitely don't want your name in, kid, because even if it isn't the only room where the people whose names are inside happen to end up dying, it's certainly the one where they die the most violently."

I flinched, and the door opened. The sheer quantity of filing cabinets surprised me, and he could obviously tell.

"You should see the main room. Wall to wall, floor to ceiling in there."

I called up a wan smile and walked inside, glancing at the small note cards on each cabinet, with words written in small, sharp letters.

"Friends, enemies, debtors, possible romantic feelings… feels vaguely stalkerish. Didn't even know how she could find all of this?"

"Legwork," came the pain answer in English. "I know that last one you read out, the romantic feelings one, got a new entry last night."

"It wasn't me, was it?"

He gave me a funny look. "Why would she file in the subject of all of these with those she wants to kill off? Understandable, though. _I'm _in here. My Missy, whom I saw grow up, has a contingency plan if she thinks I'm getting too close. It should tell you something about her."

"Like she's crazy as a bunch of nuts?" I asked as I opened one of the 'friends' cabinets and pulled out one of the files. I could admit some curiosity to the apparent brutality that she revealed in the things.

The name on the front, stamped in thick, black, blocky letters, was Jared Renner I flipped it open. I smiled a little, but I dropped it when I started to read the folder.

**Name: Jared Renner**

**Relationship: Fellow Arcadian (Class IV, codename Argo), Australian, head of the Knights of Arcadia Australia chapter. Met him upon moving to Sydney upon joining of Arcadia Movement with Jet MacKinnon (see folder in Friends cabinet, subject JCCII). Has been known to be trusted with his life. Is close enough to have accompanied him to a party as his 'date'. **

**All other information: Serves as a bouncer, and liaison with the Papua New Guinea outpost of the Oceanic colloquially as a flirt and playboy, defined as heterosexual (see high school psychological profile, pg. 12).  
Likely knows more than a few secrets that could be used against him. Because of heterosexuality, risk of romantic pursuit is low, especially compared to many others.  
Is known to be brave enough to serve a live adult cane toad. However, bravery may be debatable due to refusal to own up after being caught and having James extricate him at risk of life and limb.  
Uses an Australia-themed man in a fight, especially since he regularly sees combat service and could, theoretically, defend himself against many other ordinary assassins. I do, however, have some men who could fight against him with little risk of death. **

**Plan: In cases where necessary, must be done quietly, preferably not near the Frigate. The best option would be in the middle of the shopping district, preferably in a bar fight where it is unlikely he will have a DuelDisk immediately on hand, and bring him a swift yet violent death. Chances of involvement being known: other options be called in, a visit to Queensland and his parents' farm would prove fruitful.**

The picture beside his name was of Renner, with deep brown hair and bristles where he had been trying to grow a beard. It was taken next to his parents.

"This is…" I paused. It's strange. I don't know how or why she would do this.

"That one certainly isn't the worst, though." Nakamura-san murmured. "It started when you began sending photographs of your dates back then. The really brutal stuff are for 'romantic rivals'. Be sure you put that file back where you got it."

I nodded and slid it back in the cabinet. "What… what sort of things are in that cabinet?"

"I believe there's something about disembowelment," Nakamura-san thoughtfully muttered. "Don't look so shocked. She's brutal. She always has been, since that day." A pause. "What do you know about needy people?"

"Needy?" I echoed, stunned. I sure wasn't going to be sending any more bait pictures to her, that was certain. "Erm... they're really clingy? What does all of this have to do with that the head of the Central Movement is stalking me?"

I hadn't even known.

"There is that," Nakamura-san murmured. "Missy is the opposite of that. She... I don't know if it was because of Madam, or because what she did, but... Missy is the type to seek attention, if not approval, from everyone. She can threaten, she can beat, she can... manipulate, play, and kill as well as anyone, but... I believe deep down, that the Missy I knew wished for love, to be loved and love in return. Not to be needed, not to be wanted, but loved."

Love. Madness, she had called it. Irrational.

"You can choose," Nakamura-san muttered. "Either stay permanently. Or leave. Or else... to be drowned further with Missy is like signing away your life."

Irrational, the thought kept floating in the noggin before I walked into the Oblong Office. She was there, working, and I think her eyes had lingered a second or more than was strictly necessary.

"Yukio, I said no," she was talking into an earpiece. "Central to London. The training camp is in Romania, brush up on Romanian. Or English. Whichever would get you to the Transylvanian steppes fastest, get to it you-"

It was as good an opening line as I was going to get, so I leaned over the desk and planted one on the mouth. Cool, dry, and something like mint. Also cold, like kissing Winter in the face.

We parted only when the numerous beeps of the various alerts reached a fever pitch, and then I stood there to watch her reaction. She hadn't moved. She hadn't spoke. She just sat there with cool, ice-blue eyes, watching my every move.

"I love you," I admitted. "Wanna go out with me?"

No twitch. Cheep, incoming pigeon.

She released a breath, and the tension faded. "I don't put out on the first date."

The smile I smacked on must have hidden my relief. "Let's see if I can change your mind."

That was the beginning of the Cold Queen and the Hot-blooded Knight, and the Winter Queen and her lover. It was hard, and it was sort of tough, yes. There were arguments, technicalities, being thrown for a loop, navigating the pitfalls only a long-distance relationship with Setsuka could bring. The boys down under couldn't believe it. Nakamura-san couldn't believe.

Some days, I look in the mirror and I can't believe that I'm in love with Setsuka either.

I wouldn't have had it any other way.

_Jimmy Cook_

* * *

_**Please review!**_


	5. Doom Petal Countdown

_**Thousand Strings**_

* * *

Being a doctor, the troubles of pregnancy were all too familiar to myself. Stretch marks. Morning sickness. Cravings. Tiredness and fatigue.

Yusei, dear Yusei, he was always a good man. Rubbing the modest bump in the later months, and then carrying a bag with him and even running for the convenience stores in the middle of the night and propping pillows. His blue eyes shone with the excitement being a new father could bring. Papa and Mama were excited as well, their first grandchild a source of endless joy.

It shouldn't be... this easy.

Perhaps it was seeing too many pregnancy cases outside of the Accident and Emergency department, or from the discussions of colleagues. A dream pregnancy, complete with little stretching, not much nausea and vomiting, hardly any unexpected trouble. My nervous state came unwarranted, as Mama kept insisting as she compared being pregnant with myself so long ago.

"Many new mothers would love a model pregnancy like this," my gynaecologist was cooing during the last ultrasound.

Yes, it was very standard, hardly troubling... and it was more unusual than it felt. Mothers would kill for the very little trouble the baby brought... yet why was I disquieted by the apparently smooth passing of gestation?

That year, Rex was born an hour before my own child on the night of the thirty-first of October. Carly's screams of pain echoed throughout the maternity ward, despite the epidural already delivered. Despite so, delivering my first-born was a dream by comparison.

On the first of November, All Saints' Day, Fudo Ryuusei came into the world.

"_It went so quickly_,"I heard one of the nurses mutter.

"_Well, it's Dr Izayoi_..."

"_Such a cute child, I'm so jealous_!"

"Aki!" Yusei was cradling a bundle with the same care he provided for the delicate instruments at MIDS, and within the bundle the baby was squalling away loudly. While it sounded grating, I knew that it was proof that he was alive. My child was alive. "It's a boy!"

I felt weak and my head muddled with anaesthesia, but I held him with both arms. I held my boy, who had yet to grow out his hair or even walk and had only just entered this world. My boy.

The ward's attached television was switched on, starting with a sighting on the early arrival of the Leonids.

"A meteor shower on the day of your birth," Yusei excitedly said. "We'll name him Ryuusei."

Ryuusei. Meteor. A fallen star.

I cradled my son to my chest, as he cried and bawled the proof of his life on the day of his birth. "Ryuusei. Our son. Yes."

* * *

Ryuusei was, in many ways, the perfect baby. Crying when hungry or cold, mostly napping, hardly talkative but smiling. His eyes were a charming baby blue, and there was many a joke about looks being passed down in the family, if Ryuusei's resemblance to hiss father and paternal grandfather was any indication. Even Jack and a nervous Papa was won over by the charmingly bright baby that was my son.

It was this very perfection, and hardly any troubles with Ryuusei himself, that started all our problems.

Perhaps kidnapping the newborn son of a senator's daughter and the head scientist of MIDS was rational. Kidnapping a senator's grandson was also a legitimate concern. Kidnapping a newborn baby out of misplaced love was... disquieting.

"Oh, Ryuusei," I cooed to my squalling son when the intrepid trainee nurse was led away weeping by officers of the NDPD. Somehow, the trainee to take him away, and Ryuusei had raised hell for the first time. Beside him, Rex had been woken up, and combined squalling had somehow raised the alarm.

"Ah, it's time to consider security," Yusei murmured. Yusei had always been calm, but I could tell from his shaking hands that he, too, was disturbed by the many threats that our child faced. Even Papa had dashed to provide assistance once his grandson was safely back in my arms.

My worries for my son only increased with Diana's presence at the baby shower. Jack had been named as godfather for the child, but if pressed then I supposed that Diana Hunter, or Seiran Shimotsuki as she called herself now, was the fairy godmother to Ryuusei. A cursed, wicked fairy godmother I had no intention of allowing my child near, but was sadly overruled. Even Ryuusei gave a hiccough as the woman approached him with her laconic husband in tow. Seeing Rafael and Yusei communicate was always an exercise in anthropology; no one could quite figure out how they managed to argue over the World Cup and Duel strategies with only grunts and stares that only Jack and Crow had a chance of translating.

"So cute~!" was her opening spiel – and that of many others – as she cooed over Ryuusei. "Quite a charming boy, look at these cheekbones! He'll be turning when he grows up."

If he turned out like Yusei, I could see why. "Let's hope he'll find love."

"Is that so?" Diana tapped a finger on his brow. "Such a child... he will receive all the love from others around him, and that would be the blessing and curse of his life."

"What?" I was stunned, but Diana had flounced off towards the buffet table already.

Rafael solemnly accepted the boy in her stead. Man and baby exchanged long stares which Ryuusei responded to by giggling. A small smile cracked from Rafael, he then returned our son with the gravest apologies for Diana.

"I feel like Rafael's entire existence hinges on apologising for her," I told Yusei when I had tucked our baby in and he was safely under lock and key while Yusei and I made our rounds. "What do you think?"

"Diana-san? She's eccentric, but smart," Yusei vaguely replied. "But... Aki, remember New York? You didn't like her at the start because she kept propositioning... erm."

"Precisely," I felt vaguely shocked at the sexuality by which Diana Hunter seemed to storm with into every engagement, her vitality and energy hardly comparing to my own even with the tiny differences in our ages. "I think she has designs on Ryuusei."

"Designs?" Yusei seemed a bit... shocked by the prospect. "I don't think she's a cougar. Or was it panther?"

"Not like that," I flushed at the thought that Diana Hunter might even be interested in- no. "I mean for the Arcadia Movement. There is every chance that Ryuusei... I mean-"

"That's years away," Yusei assured me as music started and Crow broke out the champagne and something else while Kiryu started on a drunken jig.

My unease hardly faded as he aged. Already our son was shockingly intelligent, if slightly quiet and shy. Ryuusei's kindergarten years marked the start of much worry when his teacher shockingly targeted my boy- no, I can't even write about the fears I faced. That so many predators already surrounded him from the start of his school life was not an entertaining prospect.

Over all my worries of predatory teachers and intrepid kidnappers and the audacious hounds of the press occasionally, was the shadow of Diana Hunter's prediction. I had grown up with the shadow of incredibly destiny and power, and I wouldn't wish that on my son. Yusei... Yusei had hardly had it better. I didn't want the life of a Psychic Duelist for him. I didn't want him to inherit my powers. I didn't want my boy to be alienated so young.

His fifth birthday came and went, and no powers were exhibited. I breathed with relief after that. Ryuusei got into a fight with, and then made up, with Rex at six, becoming fast friends. Rex was tough, savvy if not overly intelligent, and was Jack's son. Unlike Jack, though, Rex was more responsible. Yusei kept commenting on the responsibility of the child, stoic and accepting with resignation in the face of his mother's trouble and Jack's career. I had never felt more relieved than when Rex and Ryuusei were friends and that Rex could keep an eye on him.

Of course, barely a year later my worst fears came true. Ryuusei was a Psychic Duelist.

"We were lucky," Rex insisted vehemently while the kids drank a glass of warm milk and we talked. "There were – bad men chasing us. Ryuusei fought them off with Black Rose."

Black Rose. My birthday gift to him at first, and then I thought that Yusei would commission I2 for a copy of Stardust Dragon. But Ryuusei had chosen Black Rose, had pleaded to me for him, and there was no way I could refuse my boy who had never pleaded for anything else in his life.

Black Rose had saved my boy.

I felt marginally better, enough to face the necessary steps. I called the Arcadia Movement and its fairy godmother.

Ryuusei was assigned in quickly enough, and his control was shoddy at first, but a huge improvement. Papa and Mama looked nervous, but Ryuusei had had them wrapped around his little finger since he was but a baby. Yusei didn't seem to have a problem with the fact that our child could summon monsters and inflict real damage. Myself, I knew the dangers inherent within. I knew what the Movement did.

The first key of Ryuusei's powers came when Papa had a cancer scare that turned out false; Papa was healthier than a horse and the doctors had all been stunned. Nevertheless, we stayed over for about a week, where I saw Ryuusei carrying a small terrier over to me in his deceptively small yet strong arms.

"Mama, Pochi's broken his leg," Ryuusei cried.

I checked the apparently healthy terrier. "There's nothing wrong, Ryuusei. What's wrong?"

His brow creased. "Huh? But... the grounds-keeper said that- he lied!"

Hot on his trail, the unfamiliar face of the grounds-keeper was approaching at a run. "Erm, Young Mistress-"

"It's fine," I told Ryuusei as I set the dog on the ground and let it run loose.

Thinking back, I couldn't help but wonder why the dog had been limping. But at that time, I was more occupied by the fact that the grounds-keeper and my son had been alone.

* * *

Frantic worry came back with a vengeance when NDPD uncovered the illicit dealings of the grounds-keeper and his modus operandi of luring the children of senators as potential targets. In this, Diana was perhaps a tad more helpful, being extremely viciously protective of her charges. The fiasco with Blood Rose Dragon and the White Witch Massacre's legend spreading hardly affected our daily life.

Rafael and Seiran died. We were at the funeral with the Kannazuki and Shimotsuki girls.

Shimotsuki Setsuka approached Yusei after the burial. "Please look after my sister."

Seika came into our family withdrawn and painfully shy, almost terrified of Yusei and I. Ryuusei was attached to her, so much more than I could imagine.

"Our son's going through first love," I giggled to Yusei. The sight of a lovestruck pre-teen shouldn't be endearing, but then our son had always been the exception. I had always been suspicious, curious, wondering of my stoic child and the secrets hidden behind the face of the Fudo men.

Yusei just smiled like the Mona Lisa in answer. "Puppy love. He'll make a great big brother."

For all the troubles faced, at least his domestic life was better than his dearth of dates. For a parent, and especially a mother, I had despaired that Ryuusei wasn't interested in making acquaintances outside of his sphere despite my worries of danger. Danger had surrounded him for most of his life already, and Rex plus the hellion Chase that was Kiryu's disciple made for fierce protectors and friends.

_It's a phase_, they say. _He'll find a girlfriend soon, get his teenage years over with. He's the Prince of Duel, there's no guy more eligible than him. Well, except Rex_.

My worries heightened when I heard of the two girls stabbing each other over Ryuusei. They increased when I found out about the amorous stalkers my son had. My experience in Duel Academia might have been limited, but I was quite sure that amorous propositions shouldn't come with murders and outrages of modesty.

"Your son is too attractive for his own good," was Jack's opening argument. "What about Duel Academia?"

Boarding school. With teenage Duelists milling about and Ryuusei alone there-

"No," I sighed.

I posted a request to the Arcadia Movement. Within the first term, Ryuusei's accidents decreased to an absolute minimum. Although I had to disagree with some methods, I had to admit that Setsuka was an incredible manager. But...

That Halloween came, and I lost my son.

I spent much of our family life worried for my boy, and my husband. Even as a doctor, even when I wished to help people, I couldn't do anything for my boy. I wish... I wish...

I could wish for a lot of things. But none of them would give me my son back now.

_Izayoi Aki_

* * *

_**Most of the next-gen fanfics I've read on the website don't really elaborate on the family troubles one could face – although I've seen one rather unusual one featuring a Yusei/Jack pairing and they have a son each other don't quite know exist and that their son Hisoka is raised by Aki – because, I think, to devote time more to the main plot at hand rather than elaborating on family troubles. That, or the main characters are dead, or they're facing some other troubles, either way they don't get mentioned much. The other point is that somehow, **__**all**__** of the next generation know that their parents were saviours or something and that maybe one was a Dark Signer.**_

_**Myself, I venture that Carly may or may not have been a victim of post-natal depression as a result of Jack's busy travelling career – though there's a very nice fic detailing the tiny nice moments of the Jack/Carly family should there be any somewhere around – and that Rex was actually around to see the effects of such absenteeism had caused on his mother's psyche, and so may have developed a complex. Usually it works; Rex clearly doesn't seem to have many ambitions, and a bit more smarts than Jack could be credited for, and he can supply the family while also keeping an eye on his vulnerable parent. But now, Rex is twenty to twenty-one, having barely reached his majority, and also a big brother for the first time. Between the toddler Reina and the adult Carly, I think it's highly possible that he thought the risk of relapse very low, and may have not considered that oh, hey, there might be a child kidnapper around here and my mother would have handed the baby over just like that! In the case of Ryuusei, living in the shadow of something frightening is also quite a downer even if no one else knows it but you. And for Chase... his parents are dead, but he has the legacy of his uncle and now his teacher to keep up to, as well as trying to keep a semblance of his extended family together. **_

_**Now, the second point. In real life, I don't imagine parents tell their kids that 'oh hey, I was saving the world when I was your age' or, in the case of Carly 'I fell in love with your mother when she was an evil possessed lady hell-bent on killing me because of some shared destiny that made us fight each other' or something like that. It makes more sense that the parents don't tell their kids everything, to let the kid keep a normal, rational life, or because the adults themselves don't want to believe it. In the Atlas family, it makes more sense for Jack to completely avoid the memory of Dark Signer Carly, and it's made much easier because Carly herself doesn't remember, and so can't give proof anyway, and so Jack can keep this secret. For the Fudo family, I don't imagine that Aki's status as the Black Rose Witch was publicised since she was never prosecuted and still went on to practise medicine. The potential for drama is there because then Ryuusei has to find out his mother's secret by deduction and after that keep the secret to himself.**_

_**Please review!**_


	6. Vanity's Call

_**Thousand Strings**_

* * *

Magical things don't happen to those who go looking for them.

When I was ten, Uncle Judai gave me my first deck, and the base upon which my future decks would be constructed.

"Thank you, Uncle!" I cried as I opened the prized Elemental HERO deck. "With this, I can be a Duelist, right?"

"Sure you can!" He cheered.

"Daddy, that's being childish," Ayame-neesan reprimanded him, but didn't say anything.

"And I'll be a great Duelist and I'll go on lots of adventures!" I cheered.

He got a funny look in his face. "Nikki-chan... yeah. You'll go to Duel Academia."

"That's right!" I said. "I'll be able to see Duel Spirits like you, Uncle!"

Ayame-neesan laughed. I knew that she didn't believe what Uncle said, but it was Uncle's reaction that was the oddest.

Uncle looked... so sad, when he smiled. "Perhaps."

"Uncle... what's wrong?" I asked.

Looking back... I was such a fool. I was such a fool to believe everything about that world.

* * *

"Where's Uncle?" I asked Ayame-neesan as I was waiting with her at the entrance examinations. I was due to compete next year, so Ayame-neesan thought that I should watch first.

"He's not coming."

"Why?"

"He's... busy," Ayame-neesan shook her head as she considered the field.

Her hands tightened on her DuelDisk when one of my cousins, a second-year student passed by her. I remember that student; she was beautiful, with long black hair in a French bun held by chopsticks. She was talking to a red-haired girl, also in black. "Look, Ayame-neesan, the Ladies!"

Ayame-neesan barely looked up. "That's two of the Queens of Queens."

"The Queens of... Queens?" I asked.

"That's right," she affirmed, a faraway look on her face. "The red-haired one is Himemiya Hazuki, vice-chair of the Disciplinary Committee. They make sure all students behave. In fact, all the Disciplinary Committee members wear black uniforms."

I looked at the black-haired girl, who was scanning the field with an incredible intensity that even I felt. "Then, who is the beautiful Lady?"

Ayame-neesan froze. "That is... Shimotsuki Setsuka."

"Shimotsuki Setsuka... what a beautiful name," I commented as the black-haired girl, Shimotsuki Setsuka, walked up to the stage and everyone, even the teachers, gave way to her.

"Nikki-chan..." Ayame-neesan whispered. "If you get in... never approach Shimotsuki Setsuka."

"Why?"

"Because Daddy's disappearance... no, because... everything leads back to her," Ayame-neesan insisted. "Never get involved with the Arcadia Movement, or Shimotsuki Setsuka. Promise me that."

"A- Ayame-neesan? Your grip... it hurts..."

"Promise me!" Ayame-neesan hissed.

"I promise!"

Immediately, she let go. "I'm sorry," Ayame-neesan whispered. "But... please... never approach the Arcadia Movement. Never approach Shimotsuki Setsuka. Otherwise... you'll die. That's why..."

* * *

"Hello?" I answered the ringing phone. One year had passed, and I had entered DA Queens, Ayame-neesan's and Asuka-baachan's school. "Tenjouin residence."

"Nikki-chan?" Ayame-neesan's panicked tone broke in. "Look, I'm at.." she rattled an address off, "... and... I'm sorry."

"Ayame-neesan, should I tell-"

"No!" her scream broke in with sobs.

"Ayame-neesan, you're crying," I whispered.

"Nikki-chan, I'm so sorry," Ayame-neesan sobbed. "But... please... don't look for me. Don't approach me. And... don't approach the Arcadia Movement. Please."

"Why? Ayame-neesan, you need help-"

"I'm stuck too deep with the Duel Spirits," Ayame-neesan cried. "To find Dad... I... I... _No_!"

_Click-snap_.

"Ayame-neesan? Ayame-neesan!"

No one believed me, so I had to break my promise.

"Kannazuki-sempai..."

* * *

Kannazuki Seika was the fourth head of the Arcadia Movement. She was not what I had expected; timid, shy and hardly speaking. The red-haired third-year Lady, Himemiya Uzuki, was more talkative. Despite so, I found the nephew of Uncle Manjoume and then...

… and then...

It's cruel, the world of spirits. Beautiful people can mistreat others like this. The powerful can step on the weak like this. And Ayame-neesan... Ayame-neesan...

* * *

She came back for so short a time before I saw the body.

"Ayame..." Asuka-baachan was crying. "Ayame..."

My Ayame-neesan...

* * *

"Masked HERO Goka, direct attack!"

"Aww, I lost," I pouted as the field caught fire... wait.

Ayame-neesan's burnt form appeared, an apparition between the hot tongues of flame. "_Nikki-chan... I told you... not to approach the Arcadia Movement... why? Why?_"

"I... I didn't," I weakly protested. "I wanted to find you, Ayame-neesan-"

"_I don't care... burn!_"

I awoke right there and then, panting. "I didn't..."

* * *

I hurt so much.

Kannazuki-sempai and Himemiya-sempai... they were fighting a mean man. He was using Duel Monsters to fight, and one of his monsters nearly killed me.

I'm sorry, Ayame-neesan. I'll listen to you. I won't approach the Arcadia Movement.

But... magical things don't happen to those who search for them.

The next day, Himemiya Uzuki came to me. "Kurosagi-san, you applied for the Ladies, right...? You're in. Congratulations."

Ayame-neesan... this promise might be more difficult than I thought.

* * *

_**Please review!**_


	7. Burgeoning Whirlflame

_**Thousand Strings**_

* * *

Being summoned by Jack Atlas was, in my experience, a lot like being summoned like a king. Seeing as this was the World King we were talking about, it was more or less accurate.

"I get why you," Rodriguez commented, crossing his legs as he basked in the overstuffed chair like the snakes he favoured, "but why would the World King want with, and I quote, a younger rival?"

"We're both rivals, Viper," I shook my head. "In the sense that we're all Riding Duelists."

"Speak for yourself," Rodriguez snarked back, pulling that tattered wide-brimmed hat he favoured over his face. "But to be summoned by the likes of Jack Atlas is..."

"Unexpected," I finished for him. "Especially after... Halloween."

Rodriguez shivered. I don't blame him, not with the literal shredding of veils between worlds that the Cold Queen had done.

Jack Atlas entered the office of Manjoume Entertainment. His presence filled the room, never mind that Rodriguez could match him in height and that he was carrying a bunch of papers under his arm. "Good afternoon, gentlemen."

Almost by instinct, Rodriguez and I were standing. "Mr Atlas."

"Jack, please," he sat. We sat down.

He set the files down on the coffee table between all three of us. "Since it looks like my idiotic manager has managed to screw up logistics, I'd rather we skip to the business at hand. _Trailblazing: Psychic Duelists and Duel Monsters._"

It took me a moment to realise that Jack Atlas was quoting, not actually saying. "That... that's my university report."

"And," Jack-san paused. "_The Metaphysical-_"

"Thank you," Rodriguez looked more alert now.

It wasn't a coincidence now why he invited us, the two Duelists who could see the Duel spirits. Even though I knew Manjoume's nephew to hold a gift way stronger than any other Sight, Rodriguez and I, maybe even Hunter, were the only ones who could match what I think the World King wanted.

"Fudo Ryuusei," Rodriguez paled. "Disappeared two months ago on the night of the thirty-first of October, with two girls, Tenjouin Michiru and Shimotsuki Setsuka. The NDPD said that it was an accident, but..."

"Yes," Jack-san confirmed it with a word.

To those without the Sight, they would not have felt the fire within the room. To those who couldn't See, they would never have felt the cold darkness that accompanied the presence of a certain serpentine goddess.

"My... son..." Jack-san paused. "Rex, my son. He was... he _is_ a close friend of Ryuusei. And for these past two months, he and his friend, Chase, they've been- well, boys would be boys, but- Rex, he... have you ever lost a friend?"

More than you'd know. "You want us to stop them?"

"I want..." Jack-san took a deep breath. "Rex, he can't see Duel Spirits. His only insight into... that world... is Chase, right now. And Chase... well, Chase is the more level-headed one, but... Rex has the disposition of your truly, and the curiosity and resourcefulness of Carly. Rex is... incredibly persuasive."

"We're not going to be talking sense into your son, Jack-san," Rodriguez gently corrected.

"I'm not expecting the two of you to do so," Jack-san answered. "Just that, how do you people feel about taking an apprentice?"

"An... apprentice?" I echoed.

"You want us to take Rex Atlas as an apprentice," Rodriguez immediately cottoned on. "And separate them?"

"I can't stop my son after he turns twenty," Jack-san explained. "That's two years away. I can't stop him forever, but... I've been informed that Seers usually attract the attention of Duel Spirits, which manifest themselves. If, during those two years, Rex can learn something that would increase his chances of survival, I'd be thankful. Of course, I'll reimburse any fees required-"

"I'm actually kinda surprised that the infamously spendthrift Jack Atlas knows what's going into it," Rodriguez muttered.

Jack Atlas wanted us to train his son in monster-hunting. Joy.

* * *

A few years before, I realised... she was right. Never thinking first, being the type to jump first and ask later had burned up deeply, and had hardened us, all twelve of us. Violence, anger, hatred, resignation... all were common feelings that bound we guardians together. We had lost sight of what to protect, whereas the one I thought a monster... she had never lost sight of it, the future she desired. All of us... I think, in the end, even Breeze regretted taking the choice, that in the end, we talked a good game but couldn't deliver. When ten of us were killed, and only Breeze and I were left... I think, we truly regretted.

I found Kaido. We made up. There might have been inappropriate actions between us, but I hoped that we could remain friends, despite the distance that now grew between us. Surprisingly, Shimotsuki helped.

"Why?" I asked her on a rare invited appointment.

She ignored me.

"Why let Kaido see me?" I clarified, realising that she must lack a context.

"It was always his decision," she answered tonelessly. "Regardless of whatever passed between us, I am not one to interfere in Kaido's business. So long as the Movement is not compromised, I do not care."

"Your archivist shacking up and you don't care?" I asked.

"My archivists shack up every time. You will be neither the first nor last to be such a case." She stopped whatever admin work being the head must do to meet my eyes. "I should give you the shovel talk, I presume, but I think you already have an idea what I can do to you and what I'm willing to do to you. You will most assuredly not survive a second round."

I fidgeted, trying not to show how chilling that sentence sounded from such a youthful-looking face. "I'm not sorry for trying to kill you."

She did not answer.

"I think you're a threat, given the right circumstances," I continued. "I think you warrant justice served to you on the business ends of many weapons. If you threaten me or mine, I think it's highly warranted that I shall defeat, and then kill, you. But you were right. I was impetuous. I was stubborn, leaping before I could think, and I got the burns to show for it. I could have died several times, but it was your case that drove me to _question_, to _ask _for the aberration that warranted execution, why execution was needed for our threats. You've killed people, though they weren't nice people to begin with."

In a foolhardy move, I turned my back on the future Winter Queen and began stalking out of the Oblong Office – haha, joke stuck. "But you restored my conscience. And for that... for now, I'm going to let you go. Don't think I won't come for you, because I will. Just... not today. Not while I'm foolish and making mistakes."

Of course, she always had to have the last word. As I stepped over the threshold, her words echoed behind me: "I, too, once made that same mistake."

The door slamming greeted me as I whirled around.

* * *

In theory, the conceptions of the twelve guardians of humanity against Duel Spirits was dumb, and should be dumb. But, there were other groups who were resisting the abuses and games of those spirits. Changelings, ghosts, even other Duelists who formed the Fellowship of Grigori.

_We are outcasts,_ our overly tall liaison had informed me calmly. _And the ones who made us outcasts are the ones who shall pay._

Concerning some Duel Spirits' attitudes towards their children born out of wedlock, I was inclined to agree.

Years after writing that report, I got an assignment. The Arcadia Movement, and its Cold Queen.

"She is most like possessed with the spirit of Queen Winter," Angelo told me. "Short of Doma, the Spirits fear and respect the Queen of Winter. This incarnation of death... will be far more terrifying than my sire ever will be."

Angelo was the child born of the rape of a human woman by the Terrorking Archfiend. The Terrorking was plenty of terrifying enough that the mortal world didn't merit an even Bigger Bad. So I took the knife he offered, and tried not to think of the ramifications of murder.

"Good evening, Mr Shinamori." the tiny girl herself remained completely calm even though I had come with the worst purpose in mind. "I see you've brought your own weapon to do the deed."

My grip on the steel knife tightened. "You're the one who slaughtered the Elysium Circle?"

"Yes." No pauses. No denial. Just that agreement.

"You're the one who killed the Heaven Movement?"

"They forced my hand first, but yes."

"Do you know what you have done?"

"I am certain," she answered. "That the lives of nearly two hundred people have been concluded by my hands with that deliberate intention. At least, that was the estimate. You understand, of course, that I do not keep a counter of all the crimes I've committed in the name of Arcadia."

Everyone, even the most ordinary person, had an energy field around them. Even someone with all the psychic power of a loaf of bread could feel, sometimes, if someone was standing silently behind them. That little girl, no, that monster disguised, had projected nothing but patience. Blazeus chattered by my side, a silent ember to the fount of cold that poured off of her form.

Now she shifted her body slightly into a fighting posture, radiating cold menace, the sense of power just barely restrained, eyes locked on me.

"You were unfortunate to be born as the Winter Queen," I whispered. "I'm sorry."

"Whatever for?"

"For doing what is needed."

Here, her head tilted to the side, and I had the impression that she was studying me. "So you are denying me the right to live?"

I looked at her staring, such an eerie shadow of a Madame draped in white and standing against the same army once more, all on her own. "If it shall protect the world. Otherwise, another monster shall be unleashed upon it."

"Monsters define power," her head swayed, her eyes always on me. "Even you. You wish to be a monster."

My back instinctively stiffened. "I won't. Monsters don't kill without justification."

"And neither do I, and yet I carry the label of monster," she evenly replied. "Fire... your soul burns with fire. What shall you do, then, should you succeed?"

"Shut up," I growled.

"You possess the temperament by which a single spark can catch aflame," she continued, unhurried and patient. "Even now, you hunger for my destruction, for the danger and excitement. Even as you still, you wait for the moment to strike-"

"Shut up!" I charged.

It was a dumb move, on hindsight. My feet were swept out from underneath me, the knife snatched away, and a knee found itself in my groin. Even as I thudded to my knees, the same knee planted itself in my face and I felt a slap on my right ear that sent my head crashing into the arm of the chair she had been placidly baiting me on. I collapsed, my world-view white with pain from where the arm had dug into my eye. Then I gasped. The steel knife was buried into my arm, the pain from where the blade had dug so deeply that nearly a whole inch of it had disappeared into my flesh.

"Pitiful," a kick to my sternum. "I should pin your arm into the floor, but Nakamura-san would hate having to clean up."

Then she drew a card. "Goodnight, Mr Shinamori."

White darkness greeted me.

Golden Breeze freed me from where I had been stuck in a literal ice coffin and dumped outside of the Arcadia Movement headquarters, the ice melting such that I would have been released into the Bay and drowned to final death. It was certainly inventive, and I hadn't been inside long enough to lose anything to frostbite, but my enmity against her had certainly grown.

_Impetuous_, he advised. I tried not to snort at Blazeus for his appalling lack of care in that I had been bested by such a young foe.

I trained more. I began taking trips into the heart of that elusive world within worlds, learning all of the lore and the myths that surrounded the Winter Queen, the Changelings... and the Courts. The Courts of the Duel Spirits, stayed whence destiny did not tread. The everyday of immortals that we foolish people trying to protect humanity had always missed.

* * *

"Who's the White Witch?"

"Madame Seiran Shimotsuki," Kaido shortly answered as we turned the page to see a full-colour photograph of the Shimotsuki family. A tall blond guy as the patriarch, his expression set and stern in a way that could be carved from cliffs. The Madame Shimotsuki, regal and glowingly happy in a way no one would ever see Shimotsuki caught dead in. A tiny girl in blue, with a permanently set expression, coldly beautiful despite her tender age.

The Madame was enchanting even when the colour was faded, perhaps a reason why the Arcadia Movement had managed to recover so quickly even with the stigma of Divine.

"You know, all of these works are kinda critical of the Arcadia Movement in the era of Divine," I pointed out. "And you don't criticise the Madame's era either."

"Of course!" Kaido blasted, his glasses askew. "The Divine era was a nightmare of all Psychic Duelists. Divine assembled Psychic Duelists worldwide under a common banner of hate and Psychic Dueling, which was a recipe for disaster. By all rights, the Arcadia Movement should have been discredited, but it rose and actually managed to do something credible for Psychic Duelists due to the Madame. Standardised testing, procedure and rules to protect the individual before overall devotion to Divine makes the Madame better already."

The White Witch Massacre happened a week after that, and I saw the press conference.

"_Madame, what do you say about accusations that you have killed all of them?_"

"_A lone woman, against over two hundred men? Only a Psychic Duelist could have survived those odds._"

A beautiful woman facing the army of reporters... and her face revealed nothing, haughtily staring back into all and sundry.

"Madame Shimotsuki is a Psychic Duelist," I whispered. Back to back, my partner snorted.

"Psychic Duelist..." Kaido echoed faintly.

We got more pictures after her death. A coldly staring picture of a dead body, clearly Divine, dead and one eye staring up as if he were meeting our eyes.

_They say that she told him to kill himself the time they first met... Two weeks later, he committed suicide. With him gone, there was much less... stigma. Then..._

The Shimotsuki couple embracing, even in the sleep of death. _The White Witch and Her Warlock: Tragic End..._

A little girl, too-small figure behind her large desk, staring straight into the camera with an air of cold superiority. _Child of a Witch? The Cold Queen of Arcadia._

I left without warning, occupied with other business. Afterwards, I could never locate Kaido ever again until years later.

_Shinamori Satoshi_

* * *

_**Please review!**_


	8. Naturia Forest

_**Thousand Strings**_

* * *

I'm tracking the third abusive father this week.

The Arcadia Movement does a brisk business, and concerning an organisation who regularly gives the Met the finger concerning family law and securities, this means a lot of money and competition. What with the regulations coming up fast, I had to scare up legal cases before the SIA act began.

Ghost Fog fluttered past my ear, whispering. Right now, Henry Walker was running towards Fenchurch Street. I'd chased him all the way from the Royal London Hospital onto Old Montague Street, and currently I was fast about to run out of breath and gaining on the heavyset bouncer.

We had left Old Montague Street, and I vaguely noted that he was dashing through the quad that separated the B108 from – I checked the signs – Wodeham Gardens.

Henry Walker screamed, and the quad, the trees and the grass and everything, came alive. A few passers-by milling about flinched, staring and screaming before running away. One enterprising bugger in a hoodie pulled his phone out. I mentally applauded him as I bent over, catching my breath.

Walker's screams were increasing, and even Hoodie-guy was freaking out. Behind me, the Cloudians chuckled, at home in this old, old city.

The iron railings around the quad shuddered from where Walker's weight had been thrown onto it, and as Hoodie-guy and I watched, a vine snaked out and pulled a sobbing Walker back to where the tall guy had been waiting to ambush him.

A stray rad-brown leaf had been mashed into purple and amber locks, and one amber eye gleamed as black-polished nails reached out and curled, and the vine obeyed, dragging Walker towards him as Poison Ivy might have summoned him. The lad was clad all in black; black shirt, black slacks, black loafers. The hand that was outstretched curled up, and fingers gave a snap. Walker sighed, before he went utterly still.

The amber eye looked away, searching about before they centred on me. Tsugare gave a small smile. "Erm... sorry for stealing your thunder?"

The poison ivy or poison oak, and the pea vines, are completely different, except that both require supports. After they find supports, they grow to curl around the support, flexible stems parasitic upon the stronger support to reach the sun. The vines tighten as they wind round and round, strings of a marionette frame...

* * *

For your information, there are eight royal parks in the City of London alone. That's not including the numerous garden squares, country parks, urban parks, commons, marshes, woodland, etc. That translates to a _lot_ of green, open spaces, which is useful for traps. Unfortunately, this also means that urban renewal done in an impromptu manner such as Tsugare Misawa had elected was a bitch to clear with NSY.

DI Adair groaned once Walker had been handed over and secured. "Why am I the one stuck with this shit?"

I shrugged. "You're the Met liaison with the European Arcadia Movement. You tell me."

"Because the superintendent's an ass? Or why I keep at this position of liaison?" Adair muttered. "Stand up to one kid, and suddenly you're the buffer zone between the Met and an angry mob with monsters."

The unrest had continued for over a year since the disappearance of Setsuka Shimotsuki and Ryuusei Fudo. All efforts to search for them failed. Spirits had combed the earth for them, and Ryuusei's friend had even visited with Tsugare's youngest cousin six months ago, interrupting cases. The kid, Princeton, he had a gift, but I suspected that his gift also came with the common sense of a brain-damaged pigeon and destruction dogging his every footstep. At least Youkai had been able to keep up with him, because I was seriously considering defenestration the last time they were here.

Bottom line was, the outpost of the European Arcadia Movement, especially local and up in Edinburgh, were some of the most outspoken in favour of 'pre-emptive action'. Forget riot gas or tanks, without intervention the Fortress and the Bastille would have persuaded all of Europe's Psychics into a riot. Babies, the lot of them, once the Cold Queen wasn't around.

"Because right now, the charges are going to stick to Walker," I reasoned. "And because you might not approve of the Fortress folks, but they get things done. You got your evidence, right?"

"God help me, yes," Adair mumbled, but his eyes were wet. "You think Walker can make trial?"

"I can't speak for the Fortress," I added hastily.

"Then what good are you?" Adair snarled. "I need to know if it's safe to publish that we've caught the bastard, I don't want anyone to die because some kid Psychic died and the Movement wants blood, dammit."

I hesitated, before turning towards the black-clad shadow behind me, the one with amber eyes so different from my own blue ones. "Tsugare? I need some help here."

Tsugare stepped forward, and I could hear Adair holding his breath.

Here's the thing about Tsugare; he's _beautiful_. He's got the long, thin face. He's got the height of a model and the lean build of a swimmer. In the right light, dressing and make-up, Tsugare could, and have, passed for my wild girl. And the look in his amber eyes is that of someone who, when you need them, would turn all of their attention to you and won't stop until there's no more you can give, and continue to wring you dry long after they've left. I don't blame Adair; sometimes I wonder how the hell I managed to land this.

"A- And you are?" Adair managed to cough, flushing beetroot. I could see the edge of a nicotine patch where the cuff of his sleeve and his arm met.

"Tsugare Misawa," my partner in everything answered. "I'm Koichi's partner. I'm also a tested Class I V Psychic Duelist who served in an administrative and special capacity before leaving the Movement a year ago."

"Partner?" Adair's brow arched. "I didn't know... erm, it's fine, of course."

"It is," I agreed without much heat.

"From what I have gathered about the Walker case, it would have been classed as a 'neglect in ignorance' and therefore, usually not meriting _ipso facto_ any retribution," Tsugare answered.

"Would have been?" Adair echoed.

"Until the Fortress found out about Mr Walker's attempted murder of his stepson via the cement boot," Tsugare added. "In that situation, we have every reason to believe that John Harrison was attempting to flee to the Fortress, and was taking his mother along with him. In that case, the Fortress would, indeed, attempt to re-educate Mr Walker."

A commotion, boots thumping against the floor before a sergeant poked her head in. "Sir?"

"Yes, Bellamy?"

"Sir, Walker's bitten his own tongue." Despite the grave news, Sergeant Bellamy barely looks concerned and more vindicated; her views on the Movement's effectiveness were rather well-known.

Adair turned puce, and then rounded on Tsugare. "I thought you said that they were going to 're-educate' him."

That face smoothed over, blanker than a marble statue. "They did. I had yet to comment on whether he would survive it."

* * *

"Screwdriver," I ordered once I reached the bar of the Rusty Nail. "And a Margarita for the lady."

Tsugare scowled as he took a seat. "You know I hate being referred to as that."

"You let a perp die in prison, you get names," I scowled back. Tsugare had needed mitts to be handled that first six months moving to London, but after a year he gave as good as he got. "You knew what they were going to do."

"All the Movements typically mete vengeance," Tsugare eyed me with the sole amber eye he revealed, the other eye hidden under a wealth of gold bangs. "You were part of the Fortress. You know this."

"That was before I saw the perps being hunted down like animals," I sighed tiredly into the vodka and orange juice before Tsugare sipped at his Margarita. "Tally-ho. Dammit, I can't live knowing that a father could be run down like that. You were there, you saw how he was screaming in pain."

"He knowingly involved his child, who knew mind-control, into a Ponzi scheme that would have cheated the city of Westminster and perhaps the Ministry of Defence," Tsugare shot back. "Aries had never had a choice in the matter. These things... we can't choose it."

Things like becoming a Psychic Duelist. It tends to happen to those who desire it least. Who are content with their own lives, content to have things as they are, don't have any particular desire to change. I've seen it in action. The ordinary, envy the extraordinary for power, for those things far beyond the easy access of most people, for the power to will creatures into being. The extraordinary, they envy the ordinary, passive and unsuspecting of the pains having power had given for their entire lives.

Some... they grow mad with it, either wish the power away or wish for more power, more will to lash out right back.

I took down another shot of the Screwdriver. "You let the agents from the Fortress to Walker, didn't you?"

"No," the answer was small, measured. Truthful. "Walker committed suicide. As he was told. As the idea was introduced."

I stopped drinking. "How?"

Tsugare nursed through his Margarita, and called for another. "Have you seen _Inception_?"

"Yeah..." I trailed off. "Wait. This is... a hint?"

"My powers work like that," Tsugare answered without preamble. "So long as the intent is facilitated, it becomes relatively simple to convince anyone. The will to live, of course, is a powerful device, but weighted against an all-consuming idea, its power is small. Mediocre."

The second empty glass joins the first. "Mediocrity is a terrible thing."

Sour breath stained my nostrils as Tsugare leaned forward, the sole visible eye intent. "Are you? Mediocre? Are you, Koichi?"

"I don't think I am," I slowly answered. "And neither are you. But this is not a reason to write off a life."

"Neither do I think so," Tsugare agreed, still giving a smile that dripped pure sex. "I did not write off a life, Koichi. He did it himself. I swear, he did it himself."

It terrifies me. That his power isn't botanokinesis so much as control. The idea of control. Of roots digging, manipulating the earth. Of creatures of the forest, theirs actions dictating that of the forest as a whole. Of marionette strings that are slowly seduced by vines, thy name is Tsugare Misawa.

As I leaned into the kiss of control, I found it freeing myself. That he is mad, or that he is extremely sane and mainly practical, that he is terrifying... I should report him. I still think I should. But I can't. If I do... I can't imagine what he would do.

Control. Parasite. Symbiotic.

I can't escape. And I can't think of myself if I do.

_Yamamoto Koichi_

* * *

_**Please review!**_


End file.
